


Flower Boy

by chinalineenthusiast



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, hanahaki, i rlly did my boys dirty, the college thing isnt mentioned much but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinalineenthusiast/pseuds/chinalineenthusiast
Summary: Yuta thinks that a rose's thorns are quite ironic.





	Flower Boy

**Author's Note:**

> hi yes ok so Explanation: this is not the fic that I originally had planned for this fest :(( I did (do!) have a long, elaborate Markhyuck fic planned out that I like a lot!! but to keep a long story short basically I went through some shit this summer and was having a hard time writing, and I just realistically could not get it finished in time, no matter how hard I tried to force myself and cram. So, instead, here's a quick lil Yuwin one shot!! It's not my best work ever, I'll admit, but it's still something ^^" I will definitely finish and post that Markhyuck fic in the future as I'm v happy with how it's turning out thus far (I'm about at 5k words and it's p much just begun!!)!! It may be a while as I actually start college this week (aaaaaa!!!!) and I don't know how much free time I'll have, but I PROMISE I will someday!! Please look forward to that!!  
> A L S O I'll put the meanings that I referred to for the flowers mentioned here at the end~ even tho there are only a few and they're pretty basic at that fjdksaflds I rlly didn't get too deep with this i'm sorry

**I.**

 

He looks so soft, so gentle, that Yuta fears he might break if he looks at him for too long.

 

The boy in front of him has big, round eyes, pupils shaking as he tries his best to look anywhere but at Yuta. His tongue darts out to wet his full lips every few seconds - Yuta doesn’t know how they’re drying out so quickly, really, when the boys hasn’t said so much as a word. His skin looks so soft and smooth, right down to his thumbs which he nervously twiddles together, as though he’s been carved out of porcelain. He’s like a doll, really, so absolutely beautiful, and even if he squirms under his gaze, Yuta can’t take his eyes off of him. 

 

“Yuta? Are you listening to a word that I’m saying?”

 

The exasperated tone comes from beside the boy, and Yuta is reminded that there is, in fact, a  _ third _ person there; it is not just him and this boy, no matter how much he wishes that it was. He turns to the third with his signature smile, a much gentler way of saying, “No, I didn’t hear a thing. Have you been there the whole time, Taeyong?”

 

Taeyong sighs, bringing up a hand to push his hand back from his face. “Honestly, Yuta. Even if I call you out  _ specifically  _ to talk to you, you still just space out the whole time.” In spite of his aggravated tone, though, he continues, “I was  _ asking  _ if you wanted to go out a bit this weekend. Sicheng’s new here, so I thought we could show him around the town a bit.”

 

_ Sicheng _ . 

 

Sicheng - is that the boy sitting there?  _ Sicheng, Sicheng, Sicheng.  _ Yuta likes the way that it sounds, playing on loop in his head, and he wonders if it would sound as pleasing if he were to say it himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can remember Taeyong passingly mentioning something about a new roommate, but the information was filed quickly away as unimportant. With a face to the name now, though, Yuta suddenly thinks it’s time to bring that fact back and think on it a bit more. 

 

“Of course,” Yuta says, flashing a bright smile when Sicheng accidentally catches his eye for just a moment. Just that moment, though, is enough for the obviously timid boy to flush and immediately turn his gaze towards the window, pretending to be incredibly preoccupied with the daffodils swaying in the early spring wind just outside. “I’m never one to say no to company.”

 

Taeyong smiles at that, earlier irritation forgotten. “Nice, I was hoping you’d say that. Text me when you’re done with class on Friday and we can meet up, alright?”

 

Yuta agrees to the suggestion, but his focus still is not on Taeyong. Rather, it’s on Sicheng, who has managed to tear his gaze away from the flowers to look at Yuta inquisitively, as though he’s seeing someone like him for the first time. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Sicheng,” He greets, taking advantage of the eye contact while he has the chance. “I hope we’ll see a lot of each other from here on out.”

 

“It’s - It’s nice to meet you, too,” Sicheng stutters out in a thick accent, startled at having been directly addressed. His voice is charmingly rich and low, something which Yuta absolutely did not expect from his sweet face. It’s a pleasant sound; Yuta wants to hear it again.

 

Yuta beams at his response, and, slowly, a tentative smile forms on Sicheng’s face as well. 

 

There’s something very pure about Sicheng, everything from the wondering look in his eyes to the sincerity conveyed by his little smile. It’s a rarity to come across such an untainted kind of sweetness, and Yuta finds himself wondering how to draw out more and more of it from the quiet boy.

 

Something stirs in Yuta’s chest as he watches Sicheng turn away, eyes finding their ways to the flowers once more.

 

Sicheng feels like the start of something important.

 

**II.**

 

They grow close, as two people who see each other often tend to do. By the time summer rolls around, Sicheng can’t be seen without Yuta following closely behind. 

 

“Why are you always around me?” Sicheng asks with a laugh.

 

Yuta answers simply and honestly, “Because I like you so much.”

 

Sicheng accepts that answer, and they continue on, Sicheng always off to do his own thing and coming along just after him. If Sicheng wants to go to a party, Yuta acts as his chauffeur. If Sicheng is struggling with his Korean, Yuta helps him find the words (paying no mind to his own imperfect knowledge of the language). If the air conditioning in Sicheng’s dorm breaks down, Yuta wastes no time in inviting him over to his own. 

 

Sicheng’s face is bright red by the time he arrives at Yuta’s door, a good ten minutes after receiving the text promising him a functional cooling system and cold bottles of water. Even just the few minute walk has his forehead beaded with sweat, bangs sticking together in clumps. The instant that Yuta opens the door and he feels the rush of cool air, he lets out a relieved sigh.

 

Yuta can’t fight the smile that forms on his face as Sicheng marches right in, immediately laying down and spreading himself out on the floor in the opes of cooling down more quickly. “That hot, huh?”

 

“Too hot,” Sicheng confirms with a groan, and Yuta laughs.

 

“You should’ve just come over earlier,” he says. “I’ve been here all day, I had no idea it was so hot out. It’s perfectly cool in here.”

 

Sicheng shrugs at him from his position on the floor. “It didn’t really cross my mind.”

 

There’s something about that statement that stings to Yuta, though he can’t quite put his finger on what exactly it is. Still, though, he teases, “What, didn’t think of me? I’m hurt, Sicheng.”

 

Again, though, Sicheng just shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says, though Yuta suspects that he  _ does _ know; he just doesn’t want to bother with explaining his train of thought. “Maybe you were busy or sleeping or something.”

 

“You can come over whenever you want to, you know,” Yuta says, and his tone is oddly serious for the joking conversation that they were having beforehand. “It doesn’t matter if I’m busy or asleep or anything else, you’re always welcome to come see me.”

 

There’s a confused look on Sicheng’s face, and it takes a few moments of him staring like that for Yuta to realize that his statement might’ve sounded a bit strange. He doesn’t take it back (he really does mean it), instead covering it with something more lighthearted, adding on, “You always lighten things up when you’re here. You’re like my own personal little sunflower.”

 

Sicheng laughs at that. “Sunflower? Why?”

 

“Because you’re just too cute,” Yuta coos, and things are back to normal,  Sicheng cracking up and asking Yuta what he even means by that.

 

Things are normal, but for just a moment, Yuta shifted things, and and even as he continues to laugh and tease as per usual, he can’t help himself from thinking that he didn’t quite mind that brief shift in dynamics.

 

**III.**

 

Yuta doesn’t know how he ended up here. 

 

It’s autumn now, and there’s a chill in the air that reminds him of his first meeting with Sicheng. That chill seems to run straight through him, all the way down the back of his spine, and it almost seems to be originating from Sicheng’s eyes.

 

There’s a foreign look there. He’s never looked at Yuta - at anyone or anything - so coldly, but there’s not even the slightest trace of the usual warmth in his eyes as he stares back at Yuta.

 

There’s silence between them. All that can be heard is the way that the brittle leaves rustle on the trees around them, occasionally falling to the ground and being crushed by the steps of those passing by. For as many people pass, though, Yuta still feels like he’s totally alone, like even Sicheng standing a few feet in front of him isn’t really there. It’s just Yuta, only him frozen to the spot by the autumn air.

 

He doesn’t know why those words fell from his mouth a few minutes ago now - “I think I’m in love with you, Sicheng.” He didn’t think about it. He didn’t plan it out. He saw Sicheng’s smile and the next thing he knew, the words were out in the open and there was nothing that he could say that could possibly reverse their effects.

 

He also didn’t know why those words had caused Sicheng to completely stop in his tracks, face hardening as he looked at Yuta. He looked over him carefully, examining him almost as if he expected him to declare that it was a joke within a few seconds, but when no such declaration came, he said sharply, “Don’t say stupid things like that.”

 

Yuta was caught of guard - still is caught off guard - and they just stand, looking at one another and trying to understand the complete shift that’s just occurred in their relationship because of one thoughtless sentence.

 

Sicheng breaks the silence after what feels like eons. “I don’t feel the same,” he adds on, as if that much hadn’t been made clear by his prior statement. He’s gone after that, turning on his heel and walking briskly back the way that they had come from. Yuta doesn’t wonder where he’s going; there’s no room in his head for such questions when all that he can think about is what a fool he must be to speak so carelessly. 

 

He watches Sicheng go, and just before he disappears from sight, his vision starts to blur.

 

There’s a tightening in Yuta’s chest, and it almost feels like his heart is about to burst. His lungs are twisting and he’s suddenly gasping for air and dissolving into a fit of coughs all at once, bent right in half. People give him strange looks as they pass by, but no one stops to say a thing, all far too engrossed within their own little worlds to care about the fact that Yuta’s has just shattered.

 

It’s a pain like he’s never experienced before, his chest seeming to squeeze tighter and tighter as he dry heaves and hacks, hand in front of his mouth. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes, but it’s a few minutes before it finally stops, a harsh cough signifying the end of the fit.

 

He gasps, trying to catch his breath as his entire frame shakes from the effort of it all. He looks down at his hand and sees bright red, and he can only assume amid his dizziness and still unclear vision that it’s blood that he’s coughed up from the force of it.

 

When he can see a little more clearly, though, it’s all that he can do to stare down at what he’s truly holding in the palm of his hand.

 

It’s a red rose, perfectly intact and almost terrifyingly beautiful as it sits unharmed in Yuta’s hand. 

 

He looks at it, and in the moment, it’s all that he can do to smile bitterly.

 

He knows there’s more to come; he can still feel the thorns of the bush wrapped tightly around his heart. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> daffodils: new beginnings (double meaning; also is used to symbolize unrequited love)  
> sunflowers: adoration  
> red roses: love


End file.
